by Rowan Shaw
After our tour of the WWI bunkers last weekend, we'd departed with a kiss. It killed me to restrain myself from asking for more. Every second I spent with him made it harder not to touch him, but I couldn't blame him for his reluctance. I craved him more than he even seemed to realize, and the more I knew about him, the more I wanted this relationship between us to work. But no one knew what was going on. I'd kept my friends and family in the dark because thinking about Brandon freaked me out sometimes.
When my mom asked me why I was so tired, I tried my best not to yawn, but something in my behavior tipped her off somehow.
"Did you go out clubbing again? You look exhausted."
I gave a wan smile. "No, Mom, I didn't go clubbing."
"You work too much."
Well, that I couldn't deny.
"Your sister should be here any minute now. Your dad's gone to the bakery."
"What are we having?"
"Une raclette."
"Isn't that a bit heavy before going to the fair? We're all gonna puke in the attractions." I couldn't imagine eating all the melted cheese, ham, and potatoes before going on the rides. Taking a comatose nap afterward sounded more likely.
"I'd rather you said 'vomit' than 'puke.' And you don't need to stuff yourself either. "
I burst into a laugh. Who could eat raclette and not fill themselves to near explosion? That was simply impossible.
"Do you need help with anything?"
Her concern never left her eyes even when she grinned at me. "It's all taken care of. I set the table already, and the meal barely takes any preparation."
"You should have waited so I could help."
Her smile spread genuinely this time. "I'm fine. Go sit on the couch. You need to rest."
She didn't speak her mind, but I could read right through her. She thought I'd hooked up with some guy last night. And for once, she couldn't be further from the truth.
I settled on the brown leather couch in my parents' rustic living room and scrolled through my phone while waiting for my sister to arrive. I couldn't help but smile as I read the messages I'd sent Brandon last night. I considered sending him one now to see how he was doing, but my dad's voice filtered through the door. I pocketed my phone and found him in the adjacent dining room with four baguettes under his arm. The large table was set for five people, with the raclette grill in the middle and a few platters covered with food.
My sister had arrived along with her husband, Laurent. I signed a greeting and kissed them on the cheeks.
"How is everything going?" Margaux gestured, her green eyes piercing through me. She had inherited her wavy brown hair from my father and kept it long, the tips dyed blond. Laurent was deaf like her, his skin a pasty white clashing with my sister's olive complexion. His short dirty-blond hair and light blue eyes didn't take away from his pallor. He looked like he'd been sun-deprived for years.
"Been all right," I motioned back. "And you?"
Unlike her husband, Margaux hadn't always been deaf. She'd lost her hearing when she was four years old from meningitis. Though she didn't have a cochlear implant the way Enzo did, she was able to talk and read lips because of speech therapy. That didn't prevent everyone in our family from learning French Sign Language, which was how I'd learned to sign from birth. Having Margaux in the family had introduced the four of us to the deaf community. Many of my parents' acquaintances were hearing-impaired. That was how Margaux had met her husband, the son of my parents' best friends.
"How is everything going at work?" I inquired.
"Wonderful," she signed with a beaming smile. "I'm translating a New York Times bestseller into French this week."
Margaux had a gift for foreign languages. She could read and write in French, English, and German. She also knew the three national sign languages and taught French Sign Language in an association every day after her full-time job. She still volunteered at the same place I'd met Enzo so many years ago.
"How about you?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Same old, same old."
She stared for a second, then sat at the table next to Laurent, who followed our conversation without participating. "Are you sure? Something seems different somehow?"
"Different?" I took the seat facing hers.
"You're more chipper than usual."
I laughed. "Chipper? Whenever have I been chipper?"
"I take it work has been going well," she probed.
"Two of my clients are resistant to treatment, but we'll get through it."
"You still work till eight every day?" she asked.
"On most days, yes." I'd made a point of stopping early on a couple of days—if being done at six counted as early—so I could talk to Brandon longer on the phone.
"And Saturdays too?"
"Not this week."
"You need to rest, frangin. You're going to make yourself sick."
I wasn't sure why all my friends and family couldn't understand I didn't get to choose. I couldn't just not see a patient who needed my help.
Her eyes zeroed in on me suspiciously. "Did you meet someone?"
I let out an uncomfortable laugh.
"What's his name?" she signed just as my mom came in with two baskets while my dad cut the bread.
"There is no one," I lied.
My mom narrowed her eyes, and to my annoyance, the conversation geared toward the main topic of every family reunion: me being single.
"When will you meet a man to settle down with?" she asked as she sat down, then gestured for us to serve ourselves. I sighed and didn't reply. I picked three slices of raclette cheese and some salami with a side of ham.
"I don't like to know you're sleeping around with all those men, Patrick. You could get AIDS," she insisted.
I rolled my eyes. I knew she meant well, but this talk was getting truly tiresome after so many years.
"The correct term is HIV, first of all," I replied, trying my best to be kind. "And I use protection, second of all. HIV isn't a life sentence, and I could get it even if I were straight. Why is it okay to always discuss my sex life at the family table just because I'm gay? I don't see anyone commenting on what Margaux and Laurent do in their bedroom every night. I doubt it's any tamer than what I engage in."
"I didn't mean to offend you, mon chéri," my mom cut me off and squeezed my hand. "I just worry about you, that's all."
"It's the same conversation we have every time I come here. It's getting a bit old." I didn't want to sound so salty, but the stigma around gay men and HIV really got on my nerves. I knew people who had it, yes, and they managed to remain perfectly healthy. It was the shame people forced upon them that was the real issue.
"I think he met someone," my sister signed at my mom as if I weren't even there.
"And you know that how?" I gestured.
Margaux looked at my mom, her eyebrows raised. "See, I told you. He didn't say 'no.'"
"I didn't say 'yes' either."
"Come on, spit it out," she signed with a wicked grin on her face. "What's his name?"
I rolled my eyes. "I don't know where it's going yet."
"But there is someone. I knew it." She clapped her hands before putting an excessively large amount of food on her plate. Laurent gave me the pity look he always reserved for those times when Margaux tried to pry into my life.
"Maybe I'll finally get the grandchildren I've been waiting for," my mom replied, sending me a pointed look.
"And how do you propose I make that happen, exactly? The person I'm seeing is a cis man. I think you should know that's not how babies are made."
"You can always adopt. It's been legal for a while now," she insisted.
I was never quite clear why the responsibility to have children and carry the line had fallen upon my shoulders when my sister was ten years older than me and married to a man she was sexually active with. My mom insisted it was because I was the only one who could pass our last name along, but the harassment was wearing me down.
"
So are you dating him?" my sister asked.
Thankfully, my dad and brother-in-law didn't care to join into this intrusion upon my private life. They put cheese and ham on their triangular pans and set them on the raclette grill while I pulled mine out and scraped the cheese off with my spatula, making a sandwich of it along with salami that I stuck between two pieces of bread. I bit into it and ignored my sister's question, though not without looking her straight in the eyes as I chewed quietly.
"Fine, don't say anything. We'll find out soon enough," she signed with a smirk.
Not if I can prevent it, I thought. No matter how my relationship went with Brandon, the last thing I wanted was to force him through one of my family's interrogations. Thankfully, my dad changed the topic to ask Laurent if he could help with some computer issues he'd had recently, granting me the leisure to finally eat in peace.
Chapter 26
BRANDON
"Can we ride this one? Please!" Wei shouted, pointing at the Shakers, a colorful ride that rotated on an axis but stayed on the ground.
She held herself up on her toes, her hands steepled in pleading as she made puppy eyes and pushed her lips into a pout I simply could not resist. The ride didn't look that bad, unlike some other crazy ones that nearly threw people up in the air. I wasn't doing those, and I still deemed Wei too little for them anyway.
I patted my back pocket for my wallet and got us two tickets, then followed her to pick a seat, reveling in her joy when we sat down.
"Can we go get candy after this?" she asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
Because Ling and I had moved here when she was barely four, Wei didn't remember much about The United States. I had to say the candy displays at the French fairs were insane. There weren't any deep-fried foods here, but the candy stands sure made up for that. They lined up in a row so long, it was hard to pick which one to buy from.
Smiling at Wei, I grabbed her hand in mine and squeezed. Of course, she could get any candy she wanted. I couldn't be strict all the time. This was a holiday for us, and during times like these, I turned into a complete sucker, caving in to her every whim. She knew it and abused it, but I never said anything to stop her.
The music pumping from the speakers to an almost deafening point made it hard for us to communicate while Wei kept wriggling in her seat, looking at the large panels surrounding us, all covered with graffiti designs. The attraction owner's voice came on, asking if the riders were ready to scream.
Wei let out a giggle. "It's not even that scary."
It didn't take long for her to hold on tight to the security bar, though. In spite of her fright, she kept laughing, her hair blowing in her face from the speed. Her incessant chuckles triggered my own. We were both guffawing by the time the ride stopped. I took her hand to help her out as we kept on laughing.
"Now candy," she asserted, smiling bright as the sun while pulling her hand away from mine discreetly.
I ruffled her black hair even though she hated that. She pulled back to flatten it down, but it was now sticking up with static electricity. I led her through the busy crowd and gave her a plastic bag to fill.
"I have to set a limit to half the bag," I warned.
Wei made a pout that looked so fake I wasn't sure how she thought it could even fool me. I raised an eyebrow at her, forcing her to relent.
"Fine." Her shoulders sagged, but she still got to pick a whole bunch of treats ranging from sugary sunny-side-up eggs to sharks, frogs, strawberries, and so many more. I couldn't keep up. When her bag was half-full and she was going for another scoop, I stopped her.
"Nuh uh. I said half."
She clicked her tongue and make the puppy eyes, but it didn't work.
"Sorry, sweetheart. You can get more next week. The fair is here for a whole month."
She handed me the bag reluctantly so the merchant could weigh it, then looked around for the next attraction.
"They said it's gonna rain next weekend," she pointed out.
"The fair is open every day. We can come on Wednesday afternoon when you're off from school."
"But you have to work."
"True, but my schedule is flexible. I'm sure I can bring you here for an hour or so." I paid the lady over ten euros for the bag that I gave back to my daughter. "Will you share some with me?"
I knew she hated to share, but I always made her do it so she could learn selflessness. She let me slide my hand in the bag and pick a gummy bear. I smiled at her as I popped it in my mouth, then raised my head and stopped in my tracks. Standing right there staring at me was Patrick, his hands in his pockets. He was with a tall brown-haired woman signing something at him, but he wasn't paying attention to her. His vibrant green gaze was right on me, looking me up and down in that familiar flirty way of his. I froze and called Wei back to my side when she began to run somewhere.
Patrick's eyes twinkled. "Fancy seeing you here."
Of course the chances were high. I'd already told him I was bringing Wei to the fair today, but this was the second time I'd bumped into him around the city while taking my daughter out.
Coming back to us, Wei stared at him, her eyes narrowed. "You're the man from the bookstore," she commented. Her memory was too good sometimes. "Are you stalking us?"
"Wei!" I scolded her.
Patrick burst out laughing. "No, I'm not stalking you..." He looked at me. "...much."
I bit my upper lip hard.
The woman by his side looked at us both intensely and extended her hand. "I'm Margaux, Patrick's sister."
She stared at my mouth when I replied, "I'm Brandon."
I was about to add "Patrick's boyfriend" but stopped when I realized he may not have told her about me.
She signed something at Patrick, who rolled his eyes, and awkwardness filled the air between us as he took his time to ogle me not so discreetly, his gaze running all over my body.
"I guess I should leave you alone for a second," his sister said out loud then motioned something at Patrick again. He didn't respond but for a cryptic smile, upon which his sister rounded her eyes at him then looked at me curiously before walking away.
He sent a quick glance at Wei, who no longer seemed interested in the conversation. She was staring at the people riding the Dominator, an attraction that sent riders high up in the air while spinning on itself. I hoped she wasn't going to ask me to go. She knew I didn't ride those, but it never prevented her from asking and guilt-tripping me if I refused.
When Patrick was sure she was out of earshot, he turned back to me. "My sister was asking if you're the guy I'm dating."
Margaux stopped at the candy stand right behind him. I looked at her, and Patrick sent her a glimpse over his shoulder, then trailed his eyes all over me. "Don't worry, she's not eavesdropping. She can't hear us."
"Is that why you were signing?"
He gave a nod. "She can read lips, though, so be careful if she's watching us."
"I didn't know you could sign."
A tiny laugh rose from his throat, his eyes smiling at me. "There are many things I can do with my hands that you don't know about yet, Brandon." His lips curled up, managing to turn a simple grin into something sexual and indecent.
"Would you come back here for a few rides with me sometime?" he asked. "Just the two of us?"
He beamed when I consented. "Could be any evening you want."
"Are you working this coming Saturday?" I asked. "Wei will be with her mom."
He sized me up, his eyes scorching every surface they touched. I would have liked to pretend my body didn't react on impact, but I could barely control my physical responses when Patrick was around. I'd been denying myself what my flesh craved, and the growing hunger was starting to devour me whole. I thought about him all the time. Our sexting sessions weren't the only times I jerked off imagining him inside me either. I wasn't sure how much longer I could resist his natural charm.
He never stopped staring, the heat of his green gaze not cooling down. "I'm
free this Saturday afternoon, yes."
"Want to meet then?"
"It depends."
"On what?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Will you text me tonight?"
"Haven't I been texting you every night?"
He gave a short smile then side-glanced at Wei, who was still transfixed by the ride. "Have a nice day with your daughter. Talk to you tonight." He seemed ready to leave, but when I was about to join Wei's side, he stopped me. "Mon lapin?"
"Oui."
His eyes rolled up and down my body. "You look good in this outfit."
I was wearing my usual black jeans and green V-neck sweater over a white button-down shirt. I had my black jacket on as well as a woolen scarf.
"I like the teacher look. Don't change when you get home. I want to watch you strip." His smile turned downright salacious before he walked away without adding more.
Chapter 27
PATRICK
"Was that him?" Margaux signed as soon as I rejoined her. She was holding a bag full of sugary treats as well as a stick of cotton candy that she was picking at, stuffing it into her mouth. "Is he your boyfriend? He's hot."
"He's not my boyfriend," I lied.
"Well, try not ogling him like a delicious meal next time if you want to convince me. What's his name?" she gestured as we walked among the throngs of people, the noise loud around us.
"Brandon."
She narrowed her eyes. "He's British?"
"American."
"Oh, interesting. How did you meet him?"
I didn't reply.
"I see. You guys hooked up after you met him at some club." A loud laugh poured out of her throat.
"You know, I can feel you're judging me. I don't really appreciate it."
"Am I wrong?" she insisted, her eyebrow arched as we passed a food stand, the scent of meat blowing in the air.
I paced faster, forcing her to catch up. "Do you want the details as well?"
"I knew it!"
I tried not to laugh. She knew nothing at all.